


After Racquetball

by petiteinsomniac



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, just an idea i had, only canon right up to more racquetball, there's angst and hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 06:04:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15902370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petiteinsomniac/pseuds/petiteinsomniac
Summary: What if More Racquetball had a different ending?





	After Racquetball

**Author's Note:**

> I just decided to turn more racquetball on its head a little. Comment your thoughts!

“I’m ready to go.” 

Marvin had been on the verge of another witty retort, another jab at Whizzer to add to their familiar banter. But then, as if in slow-motion, he’d turned just in time to catch sight of Whizzer, repeating the words in a breathless sort of whisper that went unended as he stumbled over his own feet and hit the ground on all fours. Marvin froze for a moment, and everything around him seemed to freeze too, as if the world had suddenly ceased to spin around him and he was left with only the sound of his own heartbeat racing in his ears. It was seconds, but it felt like milleniums, before Marvin’s body caught up to his brain and he launched himself forward toward the man on the ground. As he knelt before Whizzer, he could hear the painful, sharp, wheezing breath of his lover, whose chest was heaving with the effort and whose eyes were wild with fear. 

“I’m sorry,” Whizzer gasped as he looked at Marvin, and suddenly Marvin found himself wondering what exactly had put such fear in Whizzer’s dark chocolate gaze. Was it fear of being ill? Fear of being hurt? Or, was it fear of Marvin? The mere thought of it send a rush of ice-cold regret through Marvin’s chest and along each of his veins until it had reached every extremity of his body. He very gently rested his hand on Whizzer’s cheek, subtly brushing his thumb over the alarmingly clammy skin. 

“Whizzer,” he began carefully. “All I want is you, do you know that?” His voice was gentler than Whizzer had once thought possible. “Anything you do is alright.” He nodded slightly, earnestly. “It’s alright,” he repeated. He ran his eyes over Whizzer, who was breathing much harder than Marvin thought he should have been. 

“It’s not,” Whizzer gasped. “Marvin-” 

“Okay,” Marvin soothed; he could see Whizzer struggling to breathe more with every word, every syllable. “It’s okay. We’re going to get you some help, alright?” 

“But-” 

“Whizzer, shh,” Marvin begged. “It’s going to be okay, just try to breathe.” He looked around frantically, sure that there was a payphone nearby. He had spotted one, but as he moved to stand, Whizzer’s surprisingly vice like grip wrapped itself around Marvin’s wrist, just below the white sweatband that rested there- Whizzer’s sweatband. Marvin could feel his chest tighten at the way Whizzer clung to him, and all he could think about was Whizzer slipping that sweatband over his hand and offering him one of those sweet little smiles that he never gave to anyone else as he spoke softly to Marvin; “Now you have mine, and I have yours.” And since then it had become a tradition, and Whizzer didn’t even mind wearing the red one that didn’t match his outfit, because it was Marvin’s and he loved that, because he was Marvin’s too, and Marvin was his and they belonged to one another, and that was more important than making sure his sweatband matched his outfit. 

“Don’t leave me here,” Whizzer pleaded. He watched Marvin with wide eyes, his whole body tense as he struggled to catch his breath. 

“Okay,” Marvin relented. “Okay, don’t worry. I’m here. I won’t leave you, alright?” Whizzer visibly relaxed, though Marvin could see him starting to fade, his face pale as his breathing grew increasingly ragged. Marvin knew it would be faster to call 911 from the pay phone, but he couldn’t bear to make himself leave Whizzer alone when he was so scared. 

“Come on,” Marvin murmured, and he moved to stand again, but this time he kept his touch on Whizzer, desperately wanting to avoid upsetting him farther. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” 

“Okay,” Whizzer whispered, and as they walked off the racquetball court, Whizzer leaned heavily against Marvin. It made Marvin’s breath catch; he knew that Whizzer had been feeling vaguely under the weather for the last couple of days, but he had insisted he was well enough to play, and Marvin had gone along with it, sure that if Whizzer said he was feeling well enough then it would be fine. 

Now, Marvin couldn’t help but wonder if anything would ever be fine again. 

 

“Charlotte,” Marvin sighed in relief. He had never been so glad to see his friend and neighbor as he was right then, with her stethoscope and white coat in the tiny curtained cubby of the emergency room where he had been waiting with Whizzer. Since their drive to the hospital, in which Marvin had been quite sure Whizzer was going to lose consciousness due to lack of oxygen as he had struggled to breathe, Whizzer had been brought back to a mostly normal breathing pattern, though he still felt disoriented and dazed, and his breath still caught every few minutes, leaving him gasping for a moment as he got it under control. Now, he was lying on the small hospital bed and he, too, looked incredibly small, and Marvin was trying so hard to turn his brain off. Yet, as Charlotte offered them a tight-lipped smile, all he could think of was the conversation he’d overheard between she and her girlfriend the other day. They hadn’t known Marvin was there, but he’d heard from his side of the hallway and the subject matter had kept him rooted in place. A disease, a disease that was killing men like him. Men like Whizzer. 

“Hey, guys,” Charlotte said softly as she stepped inside. “Whizzer,” she murmured as she drew level with the man in question and ran her keen eyes over him. 

“What’s happening to him?” Marvin asked anxiously, blue eyes darting back and forth between Whizzer and Charlotte, who maintained her tight-lipped expression. 

“Marvin,” Whizzer mumbled, and Marvin broke off the demand that was on his tongue for Charlotte to tell him something in favor of turning to Whizzer, whose hand was reaching sluggishly for Marvin. It settled at the stripe on Marvin’s racquetball shorts and Marvin felt the way Whizzer gripped the fabric tightly in his fingers. Marvin raised his hand, though to do what he didn’t know, and it came to rest on his lover’s shoulder uselessly. He wanted to say something reassuring to Whizzer, but his mouth felt like cotton. 

“We’re going to keep him overnight,” Charlotte said evenly. Her face gave nothing away, and that in itself scared Marvin more than anything else that she could have done. 

“What?” he asked, his voice sharp even to his own ears. Charlotte didn’t answer, and Marvin’s heart sank. 

 

“Marvin, I feel fine now,” Whizzer was saying later that night, and Marvin scoffed. Darkness had fallen outside and the two men were sitting side by side in a cold, sterile hospital room. Goosebumps had erupted on Marvin’s legs and arms, but he said nothing as he sat at Whizzer’s side in his racquetball shorts and tee shirt, the white sweatband still on his wrist. Earlier in the day, when Whizzer had been so out of it that he barely seemed to recognize Marvin, he’d turned it over and over on his wrist and thought about what life without Whizzer would be like. 

“No, you don’t,” Marvin argued, but there was no force behind his words. Whizzer sighed. 

“No, I kinda feel like shit,” he admitted. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine.” 

And he was sure. He was sure because he hadn’t been the one to overhear Charlotte talking about men in drag coming to the hospital and never going home again. Marvin looked over at Whizzer, still pale, his hair a mess, and he wanted to tell him about what he’d heard, but he didn’t have the heart. Marvin was too afraid that Whizzer would be finding out about that very topic all too soon to bring it up now- might as well buy his lover a little more time to be blissfully ignorant. 

“Yeah,” he said instead of arguing the way he wanted to. He held his hand out to Whizzer, and Whizzer took it, tangling their fingers on top of the blankets. 

“I’m fine, Marvin, stop looking at me like that,” Whizzer half-laughed. 

“Like what?” Marvin asked, though he knew. 

“Like I’m dying,” Whizzer answered off-handedly, and Marvin wanted to laugh but instead he flinched and looked down. Whizzer studied him for a moment in vague surprise; did Marvin actually think he was dying? He was about to ask, but then a soft knock on the door brought them both to attention and they found themselves facing Charlotte again. 

“Hey, how are we doing?” she asked as she stepped inside. 

“I feel like shit but I can think,” Whizzer answered with a half smile that Marvin could hardly stand to look at. “And breathe,” Whizzer added as an afterthought, shrugging his shoulders. “So, better I guess.” 

Charlotte smiled at that, nodding her head. 

“How about you, Marvin?” she asked. 

“Fine,” Marvin replied automatically. He turned an anxious gaze on Charlotte, both dreading what she was about to say and needing to get it over with. 

“What’s happening to him?” he asked, an echo of his words from earlier in the day, which felt as if they had been spoken years ago rather than hours. Charlotte smiled again, and Marvin found himself wondering how she could possibly smile. 

“He has a chest infection,” she answered. “The exercise exacerbated it, hence the symptoms you had when you came here,” she continued, turning now to Whizzer while Marvin stared at her, uncomprehending. 

“So what does it mean?” Whizzer asked. 

“We’ll keep you here tonight and send you home tomorrow,” she answered. “It’ll probably get worse before it gets better, and I’m surprised you don’t have a cough yet but that’ll come. It’s nothing too serious, but I’ll keep an eye on you at home,” she finished simply. 

“Alright, thank-” 

“He’s not dying?” Marvin asked abruptly, cutting Whizzer off. Whizzer and Charlotte both looked at him. 

“What?” Whizzer asked. 

“He doesn’t have that disease?” Marvin asked, looking desperately at Charlotte. “Or- does he? Is this just a-a symptom of it?” 

“What disease are you talking about, Marvin?” Whizzer asked. 

“The-” Marvin looked frantically between Whizzer and Charlotte. “The one you were telling Cordelia about last week,” he explained. “The one that’s killing people, the gay one. I heard you in the hallway.” 

Charlotte’s features softened and she sighed. 

“What?” Whizzer asked, pressing for information; he hated being kept in the dark, and just then he was very confused. 

“No, Marvin,” Charlotte said gently. “He doesn’t. Whizzer is going to be just fine, I promise.” 

“What are you-” Whizzer was just on the verge of demanding answers, but Marvin had doubled over in his chair and the sound of a choked sob interrupted him. Whizzer looked over at his lover in surprise, finding Marvin shaking with the force of his outpouring of emotion. Charlotte moved to comfort Marvin, but Whizzer held up a hand to her, shaking his head. 

“It’s alright, Charlotte, thank you,” he said quietly. Charlotte, ever tactful, nodded and let herself out of the room quietly, leaving the two men alone. 

“Marvin, it’s okay,” Whizzer said softly, his voice intentionally gentle. “It’s alright.” 

Marvin just cried, relief rushing through him as he finally allowed himself to think about what he’d thought he was losing. 

“Hey, sweetie, come here,” Whizzer murmured, reaching out to run his hand over Marvin’s back. Marvin didn’t need to be told twice; he immediately curled up next to Whizzer, who wrapped him in his arms and held him close. “Shh,” he soothed as Marvin wrapped the fabric of Whizzer’s hospital gown in his fingers and clung to it, burying his face against Whizzer’s neck as he continued to sob uncontrollably. Whizzer ran his fingers through Marvin’s hair, soothing and familiar. “It’s okay,” he hummed. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” 

“I thought you were dying, I thought- the whole day, I thought-” 

“Marvin, honey, nobody is dying,” Whizzer assured him. It was unsettling to see Marvin like this, to a certain extent, but it was also comforting in a twisted sort of way. It reaffirmed in a huge way Marvin’s love for Whizzer- love which he’d learned to show in their time apart, love which was healthy and true. “I’m okay, I promise. Just sick.” 

His last addendum had been the wrong thing to say; Marvin tensed at the words and his breath caught. Whizzer was quick to soothe him, holding him a little tighter in his arms. 

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I’m fine, I promise. Everything is going to be okay,” he assured him. 

“I just kept- all the times I pushed you away and everything we missed and-” 

“Marvin, Marvin- breathe,” Whizzer said gently. “Just breathe. None of that is something you need to worry about, because I’m not going anywhere. We’re here, we’re okay. It’s alright.” 

“God, Whizzer, I’ve never been so scared,” Marvin whispered, sounding broken in a way that made Whizzer’s heart flip in his chest. 

“Hey,” he hummed. “There’s nothing to fear. I’m right here, see? Safe and sound with you. It’s all okay.” 

“Whizzer-” Marvin began, a note of urgency in his voice as he determinedly disentangled himself from his lover to sit up and look Whizzer in the eye. There was something frantic about the way he looked at Whizzer then, desperately teetering on the edge of a precipice in the oceanic depths of his eyes. 

“What?” Whizzer prompted. 

“I love you,” Marvin said. “I love you so much, I don’t ever want you to think that I don’t- that I’m not grateful to have you, or that I don’t want you, or that-” 

“Marvin,” Whizzer interrupted gently, a soothing touch on Marvin’s cheek. “I know,” he assured him. “It’s okay. I know.” 

“I love you,” Marvin breathed reverently, drawing Whizzer in close and kissing the top of his head so tenderly that it made Whizzer’s breath catch. 

“I love you too,” Whizzer answered. “Which is why I have to tell you to go home and get some rest.” 

Marvin pulled back, already shaking his head. All he could hear in his head was Whizzer’s scared voice from earlier that day, begging Marvin not to leave him. 

“I’m not leaving you here,” he said quickly. Then, a thought seemed to occur to him and he added awkwardly, “Unless- unless you just don’t want me here.” 

“Hah,” Whizzer scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot, of course I want you here.” He cracked a smile in Marvin’s direction. “I just don’t want to hear you complain when your back aches from this shitty mattress.” 

Marvin couldn’t help but laugh a little at that, because it was Whizzer and Whizzer was here and safe.

“If you’re sleeping with me,” Whizzer began, “you better get to it because I’m exhausted.” Marvin nodded his head and settled in next to his lover, drawing in a slow breath at the feeling of Whizzer’s casual hold on him, warm and familiar. 

And, just once more, Marvin turned the sweatband around on his wrist, thinking to himself that it was days like this one that almost made him believe in God.


End file.
